


It SEAMS to be...

by Th3gab3 (orphan_account)



Series: Gab3's Roadhog week stories [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aka: I hc that mako is actually really good at sewing and that's where the stiched skin came from, Day Two: Favorite Skin, Fun Fact: I don't even have that skin :'), Gen, Roadhog Week, woops i accidentally added some slight sads, woops i accidentally ran away with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Th3gab3
Summary: ...that Mako needs some new clothing.





	It SEAMS to be...

Danger is like a friend to Mako. His job made it like that. Sadly, that same danger was not a friend to his gear. Looking over his tattered and torn clothes and accessories made that obvious. Heck, even his mask was busted up, leather torn and dirty, breathing apparatus cracked and ready to fall off at a moments notice.

'Yeah, this just isn't gonna cut it.' He thought disapprovingly. Looking around his temporary base of operations, he saw bits and pieces of scrapped materials. 'Maybe...'

Gathering up what he needed, he plopped it all on a dusty workbench before looking around for something else.

"C'mon...gotta be here somewhere...ah, there you are old pal." He pulled the worn but stylish case out from under his makeshift cot, grinning. "Let's get to work..."

* * *

 

Mako took a step back, admiring his work.

Although dying and painting the leather and metal bits proved a bit difficult, almost tedious at times, he thought it went very well with the rest of the clothes. White cloth and denim paired well with a vibrant red on the rest of his gear. He smiled and closed the crafts kit, holding it and running his thumb across the old wood surface. He sighed, nostalgia seeping into him, a welcome feeling against the nearly ominous silence that was brought on upon finishing the project.

His thoughts were distant memories of his parents, their warm smiling faces as he showed them what he made, all of his little projects and works. They drifted to him sitting at a desk, late into the night, stitching, crocheting, sewing whatever he wanted, whatever he pleased. Little plush animals, pachimaris, cartoon characters, anything. It was therapeutic for him, something methodical and easy for him to get lost in, usually falling asleep halfway finished with another item.

He pulled himself back to reality, and found that the case had somehow gotten water on it. Sniffling, Mako wiped his eyes, realizing how damp they were, and feeling the newly formed tear streaks down his face. Those memories of a time lost...of someone now gone, being replaced by Roadhog, the one man apocalypse. Those times were of his home, his family, his friends, now lost and gone, war and chaos tearing it from him...

Mako laughed dryly. It held no emotion to it, and scratched against his throat. He looked back over to his stitched together gear. Stitched together...like him. His life was a stitched together mess, memories of peace mixing with discord, positive crashing against negative, water swirling against oil. Those stitches held him together, made him strong.

So he laughed again, louder and with more force to it. He laughed a slight chuckle, then a booming belly laugh. He laughed with more emotion, until it felt real, until it was real. He laughed until it became hard to breathe, coughing and wheezing, laughing until he was in, well, stitches.

And he felt...good. Calm.

Happy. Very happy.

**Author's Note:**

> this one's a bit short, but you know what they say about short and sweet so.
> 
> Written for Roadhog week, which you can find here!
> 
> https://roadhogweek.tumblr.com/


End file.
